


When It Is Useful For You

by shellreads



Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:21:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23836060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellreads/pseuds/shellreads
Summary: Grace has broken things off with James again, and taken her bracelet with her. Relieved of the love charms Grace's bracelet placed on him, James realizes the truth of his affection for Cordelia. But is it too late?
Relationships: Cordelia Carstairs/James Herondale
Comments: 18
Kudos: 104





	1. Chapter 1

Cordelia sprinted to the Institute's doors upon hearing them swing open, a smile already breaking out on her face. She had begged and begged Alastair to train with her, and he had finally relented. She was desperate to learn all of the new techniques he had mastered while at the Academy. She had become very fond of training; she found that keeping herself busy was immensely helpful in treating a broken heart. While she could not heal it, she could distract herself from it, and that would have to do.

She stuttered to a stop, however, at the sight of silver hair and porcelain skin. Grace Blackthorn stood proudly in the Institute's entryway, and if she noticed the surprise on Cordelia's face she did not deign to acknowledge it. Before Cordelia could recover from her shock enough to give a proper greeting, Grace had already spoken: "I need to speak with James."

Cordelia, regaining her wits, applied a Herculean effort to conceal the misery that coursed through her at the request, though she felt that even if she made it known, Grace would not have cared. She had no doubt that Grace knew of Cordelia's feelings for James; the looks she sent Cordelia made her feel as though she was the most obvious girl in the world. Yet Grace still made no effort to conceal the connection between herself and James, even as Cordelia became his wife.

"Of course, he is just in the library," Cordelia said cordially, though she could not meet Grace's eye. As soon as she had finished speaking Grace swept past her, and Cordelia let her head fall against the wall behind her. She knew she was foolish to be hurt every time Grace visited James, but she had not yet discovered how she could prevent it. 

Cordelia had not yet mastered herself enough to move before Grace left the Institute without so much as a goodbye. Whatever she and James had discussed had been far briefer than any of their previous meetings, but it was no concern of Cordelia's, and she would not make it so. She wished to know as little as possible of James and Grace's relationship, and as such convinced herself not to question James on the conversation he'd just had. When Alastair finally arrived, she found she had never been so grateful for the diversion of her thoughts he brought with him. 

\-------------------------------------------------------

Cordelia was sitting on the drawing room some time later, after fully exerting herself in training. She had been reading when James burst through the door, hair disheveled as if he had run his hands through it several times. Or someone else had. By the Angel, Cordelia did not want to think of the latter. He entered with a gait so confident as to feel deliberate, a difference so striking to his usual easy assurance that Cordelia was immediately concerned. His eyes caught hers with a look of steely determination, and she scarcely had time to stand before James had caught her hand in his and began speaking.

"Daisy, I have been so blind. So, so blind." He spoke with hurried desperation, his hands reaching to cup her cheeks. Cordelia felt she had never been so thoroughly lost. After sharing a home with James for nearly six months, she felt as though she knew him quite well, even if their relationship was all pretense. She had become attuned to his mannerisms, his tells, in such a way that she could read him easily. This, however, she could not discern the meaning of.

"James," she lifted her hands to cover his own, hoping to calm his racing mind. "James, what are you talking about?"

"Daisy, I cannot comprehend how I have wasted so much time under such false pretense. I have deceived myself for far too long, when the answer, the glorious answer, has always been available to me." He spoke frantically, eyes roaming over her face as if he had never seen her before.

"James, please, speak sense. You are beginning to worry me."

"There is no need for worry, my Daisy, none at all. I think I have never been quite so cognizant as I am now." He tilted her face towards upwards and looked directly in her eyes, a look of what Cordelia might have mistaken for adoration had she been less sensible.

"I love you," he said in a voice so soft it felt like a caress. "I love you, Daisy."

Cordelia stared at him in shock. He had finally said them, the words she had longed to hear for so long, and her heart raced in ecstasy.

She was not, however, a silly girl in love, and her reason soon made its voice heard. James was in love with Grace, had made it known so just yesterday. This did not make sense.

Slowly, so slowly, she pulled his hands from her face. Not far, no, just far enough to see his that his wrist was abnormally bare. The answer then became exceptionally clear. Grace's unusually short visit and her terse manner- she must have ended things with James just this morning.

"How can you be so cruel James," she asked, dropping his hands as if they had burned her. His face quickly fell, confusion marking his features.

"I- what?" He opened his mouth to continue, but she could not bear to hear him declare a love for her which she knew he did not have. Indignation slowly rose in her chest.

"Grace has thrown you aside again and you have decided I am a suitable means of distraction, is that it?"

"What? Daisy, of course not-"

"It certainly seems that way. Grace came just this morning to end your relationship. Do you think I am so foolish as to believe you sincerely care for me when just yesterday you wore the token of her affection? Love is not something you can turn on and off, James. How can you love her yesterday and me today?"

"Daisy, please, it is nothing so sudden. It is not just today when I felt how deeply I love you. I can hardly explain why I felt such connection to Grace, but it is gone now, gone for good, and in its wake I have been left the freedom to fill its space with my true love: my love for you." James spoke so earnestly Cordelia desperately wanted to believe him, but experience had proved a good teacher, and she would not make the same mistake again. She felt tears prick the back of her eyes, and soon enough they spilled down her cheeks. James reached to wipe her tears away, but Cordelia recoiled so quickly he flinched.

"James, I understand needing someone to help dull to ache of heartbreak, truly I do. I just hoped that you would have enough respect for me to not use me like that. I let myself be used by you in such a way once before, and I will not be prevailed upon to do so again. It hurts me too greatly. In the time you and Grace spent apart before, I let myself believe you cared for me. That night in the Whispering Room, our conversation when you came to return Cortana to me, our promises after fighting Belial. As much as I tried to prevent myself, I soon believed these were all signs of your affection. I believed that you loved me as I loved you, or could come to in time. Yet when Grace decided she wanted you again, you were at her side as if nothing had ever happened between us. Any moment of intimacy forgotten, any promise abandoned. And maybe you truly never meant to establish such conclusions on my end, and I can hardly fault you for that, but I cannot stand here and let you inflict on me the same agony I have already once endured. I will not be the person you use to warm Grace's spot until she decides to love you again, and I will not be the woman you settle for because the one you truly want will not have you. I desire more for myself, and I see myself as worthy of a true love, even if you do not."

"Daisy..." The look of anguish on his face was hardly tolerable; she loved him too much to see him in such pain. She knew she must make her exit quickly, for her defenses could not withstand much longer.

"I have let you make a fool of me once, James; I will not do it again." With that, she turned on her heel and fled the room, not caring as tears streamed down her face in earnest. She heard someone shout her name, but she could not stop; if she stopped she would fall apart, and she did not know if she possessed the strength to pull herself back together.

And if James slumped onto the couch and shed tears of his own, she would hardly know.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is reeling from his encounter with Cordelia, when he receives an unexpected visitor who may help him find the answers to his questions

James had little idea how long he had lain on the couch. His tears had long since dried, his breathing returned to normal, and yet the pit that had opened up at his feet as Cordelia rushed out of the library had yet to close, and James did not know how much longer he could teeter on the edge before he let himself fall. 

He wanted desperately to follow Cordelia, to make her listen to him, to make her believe him, to make her understand. But he could scarcely make her understand what he himself did not. How he could spend so long loving Grace, could have pleaded with her just this morning to wait for him, to stay with him, only to feel impartial to the split but hours later was all a mystery to him. He was a Herondale; he prided himself on his ability to love intensely. His was a family who loved with the entirety of their person, who would sooner die then so much as scratch the ones that they love. What did it say about him if he could treat love so trivially? 

And maybe Cordelia deserved better than him; he, who had made her sit by while he whispered promises of a future to another woman, could in no way merit her affections. She deserved someone who would never make her question her worth, who would never make her feel second to another. He despised himself, despised his heart, despised whatever was inside of him that made him inflict such woe onto someone he cared for so greatly. 

"Well, this is depressing." James jumped at the sound of a smooth voice in the doorway and turned to meet a pair of flashing yellow eyes. It was too late to feign a semblance of composure, so he just fell back against the cushion and let Magnus look his fill. His pride had no further to fall anyhow. 

"What are you doing here?"

Magnus smirked at him. "I simply followed the smell of overwhelming self-pity and it led me here."

James tried to shoot a glare at him, but he could not dredge up enough energy to put any heat behind it. Magnus strode over to where James sat and knelt in front of him, canting his head to the side as if he was trying to make James out. James had known Magnus for the entirety of his life, the warlock an intimate friend of his parents, and as such knew his manner quite well; he knew that despite the front of coldness he constructed, Magnus would never leave someone who was in pain alone in their suffering.

James was not sure what overtook him—perhaps it was knowing it was in Magnus's nature to care for his troubles, perhaps it was a need to tell someone, anyone—but suddenly the tale came pouring out of him. He told him everything, from his earliest moments of attraction to Cordelia, his understanding with Grace, all the way until the altercation they had just hours earlier. He detailed all of his confusion as to what had happened, how his love for Grace had all but vanished in the matter of a day, like a dream he remembered having but could no longer recall the plot of. 

When he finished, he looked up and saw Magnus looking vaguely stunned, yet more than a little intrigued. "Matthew insinuated that there was more to you and Cordelia's relationship than met the eye, but I have to admit I never could have anticipated this. I have not seen a relationship this messy since your parents were teenagers," he chuckled to himself.

James simply stared at him. He did not possess the presence of mind to contemplate what Magnus meant by that comment, so he left Magnus to his own private humor for a moment before he continued speaking. "I do not know what to do. None of this makes sense, and I feel I cannot drag Cordelia into this again until I understand what it is I would be making her endure. Twice I believed myself entirely in love with Grace, and yet as soon as her bracelet left my wrist it was as if-"

"The bracelet- James, what does it look like?"

"It's a plain, silver thing, much like any other of its kind. What does it matter?" 

"What do you know of love spells?" 

"Love spells? Not much beyond stories."

"There are many ways to make someone bend to your will, James. Some use threats, some use deception, some use love. It's a dark magic, one that takes the purest of emotions and exploits it. It turns love into submission, until the person bound would do near anything asked of them by their captor. Often love spells come in the form of a charm, where a spell is placed on an object the person will have on their person, and as long as they wore it, the spell would be in place. It would explain why you felt no love for Grace as soon as she took her bracelet back, and why when you wore it you would do most that she asked of you, even if it was against your better judgement, like razing Blackthorn manner." 

James could do nothing but stare, mouth gaping and mind reeling. This was a story too outrageous to be true. "Grace was but a child when we met, same as I. It is not possible she could have dreamt up a scheme such as this."

"No, not grace: her mother." Magnus looked at James with pity in his eyes. "Tatiana has never had any qualms using dark magic when it serves her, and has always had a particular interest in bringing harm to your family, as you well know. It is not implausible to believe she would stoop so low as to take advantage of a young boy, to trick him into deference, to use him to bring ruination upon his family against his free will. However, we cannot know for certain unless I see the bracelet myself, so I can look for any traces of the spell."

James's mind was spinning. This idea was so absurd he could hardly wrap his head around it, yet in a way it made perfect sense. He remembered denying Grace's attempt at reconnecting after she had left him that first time, and yet as she closed the bracelet onto his arm, all thoughts of resistance were removed. He thought of how he loved Cordelia in those weeks he was free of Grace, and yet that day in his room when Grace had returned with his chains, his love had been smothered so deep he thought it did not exist, had never existed. 

James scarcely knew how to feel, but he knew he must be certain, one way or the other. "I can get the bracelet. I know where they keep it, I can get it tonight. Then we can know for certain. But even if all of this is true, what if I have hurt Cordelia beyond recovery? If all of this were to be real, she may still resent me for all that I put her through, might still decide this ordeal was much too painful, that she still cannot trust me enough to stay with me." 

"Ah, yes, it seems to be the custom of Herondale men to insult the object of their affections," Magnus said, a reminiscent smile coloring his face. "Do not fret, James; if you are anything like your father, you'll win her over."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!! If you are reading this, thanks for sticking around for the second chapter!! I really appreciate all of the kind responses to the first chapter, and I hope you guys like this one as well! I am thinking of doing one more chapter, possiblyyyyy two depending on how the writing goes!! Again, please feel free to leave any comments or constructive tips, I'm always looking for ways to improve! Okay hope you guys are doing well :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James faces the reality of what happened to him, and works to repair the damage inflicted on his and Cordelia's relationship.

James had expected to have more reservations about sneaking into a lady's house in the middle of the night, yet any qualms were overshadowed by the simmering rage rising in his chest, threatening to boil over. The idea that he had been subject to such manipulation for so many years, had been reduced to nothing but a mere pawn in Tatiana's game, had James struggling to rein in his temper. But he knew not to let that anger take hold of him, not yet, lest he risk the carelessness anger brings. Rather, he channeled that rage, using it as his tether into the mortal realm as he shifted into shadow.

He made quick work of locating the silver circlet he had adorned for so many months. The bracelet was exactly where he had found it that first time, when he had been retrieving it as a gesture of compassion towards Grace, unknowingly playing into her mother's plot. He wondered if that bracelet truly meant anything to Grace, if it had even belonged to her mother at all, or if she had simply used her tragedy in order to deceive James into compliance. He pushed down the bile threatening to rise at the thought. 

With the bracelet in his possession, James left Chiswick manor as fast as he could, thankfully not running into Grace or Tatiana. They were both probably sleeping soundly in their beds, unaware that the very foundation of James's world was falling out from under him. As he made the trek back to where Magnus awaited at the Institute, he could not help but analyze every interaction he had ever had with Grace, every conversation he had had with others about her, trying to understand, trying to see the signs of the exploitation of his mind, his heart. 

An hour later, after scanning every inch of the bracelet with his magic, Magnus confirmed their suspicions. He spoke to James with unabashed sympathy, the pain in Magnus's eyes a dull mirror to that in James's chest. He looked at James softly, almost as if he was seeing someone else, another man who had lost so many years to a curse. 

James felt it again, the indignation bubbling inside of him. He hated the magic that had done this to him, hated the woman who felt such hatred that she would manipulate a child, hated the heart that had betrayed him. But beyond the anger lay something far, far worse: despair. So many years of his life, spent living unwittingly under someone else's thumb, living in a mind that was not entirely his own. And he might have been able to excuse the slight against himself, had it not caused so many he cared about pain. He had hurt his family, his friends, as he continually chose Grace over them. It had hurt them to see him do anything she asked, confusing fealty and love, despite how obvious it was that Grace was using him for her own benefit. Obvious to everyone except himself, for he could not hear their wisdom, not over the bracelet's magic roaring through his veins. It twisted their concern into hostility, their advice into a scheme to part him from his beloved. But he did not truly love Grace, he never had. 

He loved Cordelia. He had since they were children, too young and scared to realize it. And Grace- she had known it too. All of these years, time he could have spent with Cordelia, wasted on Tatiana's leash. Instead, he had made Cordelia suffer, had made her watch as he yearned for Grace, had kissed her and then returned to the hand that hit him. He had whispered promises of a future together to her, only to pervert that promise beyond recognition: yes, they were married, but he continually made it known that he did not love her, that he loved Grace, that as soon as their year was over he would return to Grace. He had hurt her, and the Angel knows if she would ever forgive him. He certainly could not blame her if she did not, even though it might kill him. 

His heart has been made into a weapon used against him. But like all other injuries, the wound could only heal when the blade was removed. That was the only thing James could comfort himself with, the knowledge that at the very least it was over, that he would no longer be subject to anyone's will but his own. He had lost much, but he would not let it destroy him; no, he would do whatever he could to repair all the damage he had inflicted on those he loved. His parents, the Merry Thieves, Lucie. Cordelia.

James stood abruptly to his feet, steely determination filling his veins. He was surprised to find dampness on his face, the evidence of tears he did not remember shedding sprinkled along his shirt and waistcoat. Wiping at his face, he looked over to Magnus, who had taken a seat in the armchair next to him, staring at him with sorrow and what looked like helplessness. James realized then that Magnus had been speaking to him all this time, likely trying to soothe him, but James had not heard him, his thoughts drowning out the warlock's words. He knew Magnus despised being unable to help those he cared for, but this burden was his to bear alone. 

"Thank you, Magnus- for everything. You have helped me more than I can properly convey." 

"I have done very little, child. You had recognized the truth of your abuse on your own- I simply gave it a name." Magnus's cat eyes were gentler than James had ever seen them. 

"I-I need to speak to Cordelia," James said, already striding for the door. 

"Woah, easy, Romeo," Magnus stood and pressed a hand to James's chest, halting his motion. "It is nearly two in the morning. I'm not sure Cordelia would appreciate such a late visit, even for a heartfelt declaration of love." 

"If I wait, she could-"

"If she was going to swear you off forever, she would have done it already. Whatever her decision will be, a few more hours will not make it. Try and get some sleep, then see her in the morning." 

James's supposed he was right, although he doubted he would be able to get any sleep tonight. Gratitude filled his heart at everything Magnus had done for him.

"Thank you, Magnus, truly. You have been kinder to me than I deserve."

He strode up to his old bedroom in the Institute before Magnus could say anything else. 

\-------------------

It had been a long while since Cordelia had allowed herself to wallow in her misery, but curled up in her old bedroom at her mother's house, she found it all too easy to sink into the sorrow that had flooded her after her encounter with James. 

The things he had said to her- a small part of her wanted to believe them. Wanted to relish in the love he had professed, even though she knew it was only a product of his heartache and loneliness. She could not stamp out the small voice in her head that wanted to pretend, just for a moment, that what he said was true, that he could want her, could love her. But she knew the truth, knew where his heart lay, and she would not fabricate some other life in order to comfort herself, because she knew it would only make reality hurt more when she returned to it. 

When she knocked on the doorstep to her old home yesterday, she had not even had the energy to feign being alright, to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She was immensely grateful that it was Alastair who answered the door, her mother and the baby gone on some errand. He had taken one look at her state and taken her into his arms. His kindness made her tears return in earnest; she was acutely aware of how lucky she was to have a brother who cared for her so much, who would do anything to protect her. 

They had wound up sitting on the floor in the foyer, the stone cool against Cordelia's flushed skin. She was not sure why, but something snapped inside her, and the story of it all came spilling out. The fake marriage, James's meetings with Grace, and the entirety of their conversation that afternoon. Alastair said nothing as she told her tale, his arms tightening around her as she recounted all that had occurred. When she finished, they sat there for many moments, Alastair rubbing soothing circles on her arms as her tears dried and her breathing returned to normal. She was hit with an overwhelming exhaustion in the wake of all the distress her body and mind had undergone, laying her head against her brother's shoulder and letting her body relax against his. 

"I'm going to kill him," Alastair said, voice choked with barely restrained anger. The lethal calm in his voice had her raising her head to look at him, his mouth a pinched line, his eyes hard as stone. 

"No, Alastair, please, I- please do not say anything to him." 

"He hurt you, he _used_ you, and I will not allow him to continue to do so."

"I- I know he did. And I told him as much. Please, Alastair, it will only make things worse, more complicated. I will handle him when I... am in the headspace to do so, but for now, I would just like to rest." 

His eyes softened at that, and she knew that his rage was not forgotten, that he would likely never forgive James for the things he had done to her, but that was an issue she would worry about at a later time, instead letting her brother scoop her up in his arms and carry her upstairs to her old bedroom. He laid her in her bed, and within moments she had drifted off. She awoke some hours later, seeing that night had fallen outside. Having slept through the late afternoon and evening, she felt wide awake in the hours so late they became early morning. So she had been lying there for hours, contemplating all that had occurred. She did not know when things had become so messy. 

She worried how dreadfully awkward this would make the remaining months of their marriage, but Cordelia could not help but feel proud of herself. She had said what she felt, and she would not allow herself to feel guilty for it. She-

Her thoughts were interrupted by a fervent knock on the front door. She could not imagine who would visit them so early in the morning, if the pink light trickling through her window was any indication of the hour. She would not go answer it- she no longer lived here, so whoever it was was not here for her. She heard Alastair's footsteps tread downstairs and open the door, and then heard muffled bickering, her brother's voice rising in intensity as he and the stranger quarreled for a few minutes. Deciding to come to Alastair's aid, and perhaps just a little curious, Cordelia pulled on her dressing gown and snuck across the hallway to peak from the top of the stairs. 

The two were arguing in hushed voices, likely Alastair's attempt not to wake her, so she could not tell who was standing on the other side of the doorframe. Until she stepped into view at the top of the stairs.

From this angle, she saw Alastair's back as he hurled hushed words at who she could now see was James, his cheeks tinted pink from the early morning chill. By the Angel, he looked as if he had not slept at all. The dark circles under his eyes were stark against his pale skin, his hair disheveled, the buttons on his shirt in the wrong holes. But the look in his eyes as he saw her, it was relief and anguish and love and desperation all mixed into one. 

She had figured James would apologize eventually, but she had not anticipated it to be so soon, or for him to look so devastated. He called out to her, her name a prayer on his lips, but Alastair stopped him before he could say anything else. 

"I have told you already James, you need to leave. You will only make things worse." 

James did not so much as look at Alastair as he spoke to him, entirely focused on her, on the eye contact she found herself unable to break. He spoke as if Alastair had not even said anything, as if he was not even there. "Please, Cordelia, just let me explain. There are- there are things you need to know, things I need to explain. I just- please." The pleading in his voice made her chest seize; as angry as she was with him, she could not bear to see him in such distress, not when she could alleviate it. 

She made her way to the bottom of the staircase. "Alright," she said, her voice sounding stronger than she felt. James visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumping inward, quietly mumbling "Thank you, thank you, thank you." 

Alastair whipped towards her, questions in his eyes. She only nodded her head, silently telling him _it's okay_. He scanned her face for another moment, as if checking for himself if she was stable enough to have this conversation. She could hardly blame him, considering the state she had shown up in yesterday. Content with what he found in her face, her brother turned back to the boy she loved and whispered, "If I see so much as one tear in her eyes after this, you are a dead man." He spoke in a voice laced with venom, sending a shudder down Cordelia's spine. She squeezed his arm as he retreated back towards his room, throwing one last glare at James before he disappeared down the hallway. 

Cordelia returned her attention to the man standing in front of her, only to find his eyes already searching her own. He stumbled forward, grasping her hands in his. "Cordelia, I- I am so sorry, I-"

Her brow furrowed in concern. "James, please calm down. I do not hate you, there is no need to panic. Come, let's go to the sitting room." She tugged on his hand, pulling him behind her as the went into the sitting room. She sat on the couch, patting the spot next to her when James stood there awkwardly, as if unsure if she would want him that close to her. 

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Cordelia, you must understand how sorry I am. I never, never meant to make you feel that I was using you to sate some feeling of loneliness or boredom. I understand how it would feel that way to you, and I... I need you to know that it was never my intention to make you feel as though you were a second choice, or someone to fill Grace's role until she returned. I-"

Cordelia felt her heart cleaving in two at the sincerity in his eyes, at the way his voice broke as he spoke. And those were tears, _tears_ shining in his eyes. This was breaking her heart. "James, please. I understand. You cannot control who you love, any more than you can control who you do not. I cannot blame you for not loving me, for it is not something you can decide, nor can I fault you for loving Grace. And I understand the need for companionship in the wake of heartbreak. I just... I cannot be that for you. I cannot be your contingency plan for when Grace decides she's through with you."

His eyes shuttered, as if her words hit him like a physical blow. "I know, Cordelia, by the Angel, I know. But I do not love Grace. I never have." He must have seen the confusion and doubt on her face, because he quickly added, "I know you may not believe me, I would not believe myself were I you, but... just hear my story, please. Then you are free to decide whatever you wish about me, but please just listen." 

She nodded softly, her heart faltering at the way he hung his head. Whatever she had expected James to say, she was not prepared for what he told her. She reached for his hand as he told his tale, how the Blackthorns had deceived him, had taken control of him through that bracelet, had compelled him to love Grace. He explained how Magnus had visited after their argument yesterday and had put it together. 

Tears slid down Cordelia's face as he recounted the horror he went through. Her heart broke as she imagined James, young and naive, doing something kind for a friend only to be chained by that old wretch. He was a child when Tatiana took his mind for her own, manipulated his life in order to satisfy whatever her sick plan was. She held James's hands as he told his story, pain shining in his eyes, and when he finished, she pulled him into her arms. He seemed a little surprised, but he soon relaxed into her touch, ragged sobs breaking from him as she rubbed her fingers in soothing circles on his back. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck, and she let him cry for minutes or for hours, let him cry for the years of his life he had lost, for the heart that had been turned against him. "I am so sorry James, I am so sorry," she whispered over and over again into his hair. He wept until his tears ran out, and she held him for longer, whispering calming words to him, holding him up when he could not hold himself. 

James lifted his head, eyes puffy and red, and looked at her again with that desperation. "But Cordelia, you have to understand- I do not love Grace, the bracelet only made me believe I did. That is why I kissed you in the Whispering Room, why I made plans for a future with us. She had taken the bracelet back, and my heart was free to follow its true desire. And when she took it back yesterday, I was again able to hear what my heart truly craved. That is why I said all those things to you yesterday: not because I was lonely and needed you to fill Grace's hole, but because I meant them, and was only then able to feel what my heart knew all along. Cordelia, I have loved you since we were children, since those days you cared for me when I had the Scarlet Fever. I was young and stupid and did not understand what I felt, and by the time I was old enough to, I was in the Blackthorn's grasp. But I never stopped loving you; underneath the layers of deceit and trickery, that one truth always pulsed in my heart, in my blood, even if the spell masked it. You are the most beautiful, wonderful person I have ever known. You are smart, and witty, and brave- braver than any of us. You are everything to me, everything, and I am so incredibly sorry for all that I have done to make you feel that I do not care for you. And I understand if this was an affront too large to forgive, if it was a pain too large to move past. I would not blame you if you want nothing to do with me, after the way I treated you all these years. But I cannot bear the thought that you would believe that I did not love you, would use you in such a way. I- I am sorry." 

James dropped his head again, agony rippling over his features, and Cordelia reached over, grasping his chin and tilting his face so he had to look at her. How he could believe she would reject him because of what Tatiana did to him?

"James, listen to me. None of this is your fault. Not one part of it. You had no say in what happened to you. How can you believe I would hold this against you? I understand, James. It all makes sense now." His eyes filled with a hope, a light, she had not seen in a long while. Cordelia cradled his face between her hands. "I have loved you for years. I have never shied away from you before, and I will not do so now. You are not a bad person, nor have you done anything wrong. You underwent abuse. The Blackthorns are to blame, and we will make sure they are held accountable for their crimes, but for now, James, you can heal. And I will be here to help you through it."

His eyes brimmed with unshed tears, although they seemed of the happier sort. He grasped her wrists, twisting to kiss her palm. "I do not deserve you," he murmured against her skin. She bent her head to look into his eyes.

"You deserve every joy this world can offer you. Do not let what the Blackthorns did to you make you feel unworthy of happiness." He gave her a small smile, so full of adoration she thought her heart might stop beating entirely. 

She suddenly felt shy under his gaze, a blush rising on her cheeks. "You meant it all?" she questioned, her eyes flicking down to his lips. 

He tracked the movement, sliding his hands from her wrists all the way down her arms until they rested on her shoulders. "All of it and more. I love you so much, it feels like I cannot breathe when I look at you. And I know that we did not get married under the most ideal circumstances, but I do not regret it, not one moment of it. And if you wish to end our relationship at the conclusion of the year, of course, I will respect that, but I am inclined to spend the rest of my days by your side. I am not sure even a lifetime with you would be enough."

His words knocked the breath out of Cordelia. But where words failed her, she compensated by pressing her lips against his. He sighed into her mouth, his hands sliding down her back, pressing her against him until there was not an inch of space between them. He deepened the kiss, and she slid her hands into his hair, tugging at the fine stands. He broke away for a moment, grinning at her like a fiend, before kissing her again, more insistent this time. His hands gripped her waist and pulled her into his lap. She ran her hands down his chest, trying to memorize the feeling of him under her fingers. His hands traveled up and down her thighs, and he pulled his mouth away from hers, only to trail his lips down her throat. She gripped his hair, a moan pulled from the back of her throat at his ministrations, one he answered in kind. 

She suddenly remembered where they were, remembered the last time a Carstairs child had a romantic moment in the public rooms at this house, and gently pushed James's face away. He whined at the distance, making Cordelia chuckle. "Perhaps we should take this somewhere more... private." His eyes glowed with hunger. 

"Good thing I took the carriage," he smirked, "We can be home in fifteen minutes." Cordelia's toes curled at the promise laced in his words. He pulled her to her feet, their journey to the front door a slow one, as James periodically stopped to kiss her. 

As they finally reached the doorway, Cordelia tugged on his hand. "I should probably tell Alastair I am leaving," she said. "And that we reconciled, so he won't come and kill you in your sleep tonight."

"Please do. From what he was saying this morning, I think he has put some detailed thought into how he would like to make me suffer." Cordelia giggled, and kissed him again, because she couldn't help herself. 

As she made to pull away, she whispered into his ear, "I think a lifetime sounds like an excellent place to start."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this became long af!! I feel like I've seen several fics where James loses the bracelet, but not really any where he truly grieves all that he lost to it, so I incorporated that into mine :) I hope you guys are doing well!! As usual please leave any comments or tips !!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, so if you have any comments or tips please feel free to let me know! Constructively please I'm fragile
> 
> Also, all of the characters belong to Cassandra Clare :)


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